


This Trust

by Flashfires



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Sexy Fluff, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 07:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13266489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flashfires/pseuds/Flashfires
Summary: Super short scene. (I can do longer, honestly!) Edmund Reid has been invited into a loving relationship with Jackson & Mimi. Just another very short scene. Edmund's feels.





	This Trust

Golden sunlight of a Sunday afternoon, dapples against the floral bedroom curtains. This room soothes him, this room and its memories. Sweet and heady ones. Healing and loving ones. He adores this little space in the world. How it smells of them. How it has both of their aesthetics. If his heart could purr, it would be purring now. An earth angel is at his side.  _Hermione_.  Dearest Mimi. Her head resting in the crook of his scarred shoulder. Her naked, soft skin, sylph like, cleaving to him. Her thick, tousled, brown locks, curling over her shoulders. Her elegant hand resting on the swell of his chest. He ever so gently puts his own over hers. Covering it’s smallness easily. 

These touches, so precious. 

This trust. 

 He is smiling now as he listens to her breathe. On every breath out through her nose, her pretty, upturned nose, he hears a soft whistling sound. Is there anything about this woman that is not endearing? He thinks not. He lowers his face to the top of her head and breathes in her scent and kisses her there. A gesture which stirs her to sigh softly, but she does not awaken. 

His gaze then moves over her, to her side.

 

Spooned against her back is his american. His ever loyal, ever loving Jackson. His most intimate _‘Matthew’._ So quiet in his sleep. He smiles at the glints of silver in  _his_  short scruff of a beard. Salt and pepper. Yes, he muses,  in fact , his american is a salt and pepper man. The salty wit and a hot pepper capacity for love and passion in his big heart. Matthew’s arm is tucked under their angel’s,  _his_  hand over her breast.  _His_ lips, a pout that somehow conveys innocence, even after all that has passed. Lips that, more often than not these days, make him moan with pleasure or smile with delight. 

He wishes he could wrap them both up and keep them safe from all harm. He wishes he could some how stop time and keep the perfect peace of this afternoon. To be suspended thus in their most comforting & vital of embraces.  

He cannot of course. So instead, he memorizes it. He savors every detail. He can safely say, that yes, he has known joy, known it intimately. 

 

 

 


End file.
